Vernal Equinox
by andrastes-grace30
Summary: It's the time of the spring festival, 1912, but East City doesn't have time for these things. Mangahood, pre-series.


In the six months since Edward Elric had become a state alchemist, the soldiers assigned to Colonel Roy Mustang had got very used to the sudden explosive shouting matches between him and their commanding officer.

"What do you mean, 'we don't celebrate the Vernal Equinox here'?" Edward yelled, slamming both hands on Mustang's desk for emphasis. This was a new one. Most of their previous arguments had centred around 'being sent to the arse-end of nowhere to do your fucking job for you'.

(at first – when they'd discovered Mustang's newest subordinate wasn't yet even a teenager – the members of Mustang's team had been worried about the need to watch their language around the newly appointed Fullmetal Alchemist. These worries had – alarmingly – turned out to be unnecessary)

"We don't see the need to celebrate every festival you have out in the sticks. We have more important things to do in the city."

He was saying it all with that infuriatingly smug expression that Edward wanted nothing more than to punch off his face, and likely would've if it weren't for the huge armoured hand that closed around his raised arm and gently lowered it.

"We're just surprised you don't, is what my brother meant." Alphonse – the owner of the hand – explained, "It was such a huge event back in Resembool."

"Be that as it may, I don't see what any of this has to do with your brother's late, and appallingly written, report."

"It's… GAH. You wouldn't understand." Edward snapped, shaking Alphonse's hand off his arm and stomping out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

"I kind of get what the Chief means," 2nd Lieutenant Havoc said, in an attempt to break the now awkward silence, "used to have all that stuff back home when I was a kid. Whole town got together, dancing, some drinks," he stopped, remembering that Alphonse Elric, despite his huge size and fearsome appearance, was just a few weeks shy of his twelfth birthday, "only by those above 18 and completely responsibly, of course."

"I'm really sorry about brother's behaviour," Alphonse said, his voice quieter than normal. "he's been so touchy lately. More than usual."

Edward was notoriously short tempered, but usually had a gentleness people didn't expect when it came to his little brother. It had been a surprise to Roy's team when they heard Edward and Alphonse's own argument as they headed to the office. Edward's mood had only gotten worse since then.

"I should go see where he's got to," Alphonse said. He was never too sure if he should salute. Edward didn't and he was technically a solider. He settled for a polite bow before leaving the office as quietly as he could.

Edward hadn't gone far. He was leaning against the wall a little way from the door the office, shoulders hunched and his pocket watch open in his gloved, automail, hand. He was staring at it as though the ticking of the hands was the most fascinating thing he'd ever seen. He snapped it shut when he heard Alphonse's metallic footsteps approaching and shoved it back in his pocket.

"Are you okay?" Alphonse asked, aware as he said it just how inane that question sounded.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Why wouldn't I be?" Edward replied, staring fixedly at the wall opposite him. Alphonse leant against the wall next to his brother, and sunk down to the ground, hugging his knees close to his chest. It put them nearly at the same height.

"Two years ago," he began, and he saw his brother tense. Two years ago the night they tried to transmute their mother was still some time away, and their excitement over helping prepare for the Spring Festival had been minor compared to their excitement of all the things they planned to do when they had their mother back. Two years ago, Edward was yet to go through automail surgery. Two years ago, Alphonse wasn't trapped in an unfeeling metal shell of a body.

"It was fun, wasn't it?" he said instead. "Getting things ready for the festival. Putting up decorations around Resembool."

A snort of laughter from Edward, but with bitterness instead of humour, "'Fun' when people appreciate the work you put in, maybe," he replied.

"Your decorations were, um, a little unconventional." Skulls and demonic faces were, most people felt, not really the Spring Festival aesthetic.

"Ed," Alphonse said, finally getting his brother to look at him. "I miss Resembool." And then, much quieter, "I miss mum."

An awkward, one arm hug he couldn't feel and then Alphonse was aware of his brother's hand resting on his head.

"Yeah." A pause, "Al… do you –"

But whatever he planned to say was cut off by Roy Mustang opening the door to the office and cutting in with,

"Fullmetal. I got a phone call."

Edward's arm shot back, and he instantly adopted his usual folded arms, _I don't care_ , pose that he used whenever he spoke to Mustang.

"Yeah, yeah. Where you need me this time?"

"Central. You remember Lieutenant Colonel Hughes?"

"The hell does Super Dad want?" The man's uncontainable enthusiasm for his wife and baby daughter were impossible to forget.

"A favour, actually. He's throwing a party for the equinox and I can't make it. So I volunteered you two to go instead of me."

Another snort of laughter. "Yeah, no way."

"You would be doing me a huge favour, Fullmetal."

"A 'favour'? So _you'd_ owe _me_?"

A flicker of pain on Roy's face and then a nod.

"So I could just tell you to do it yourself next time you try to waste _my_ time doing _your_ job?"

Another nod.

"Equivalent Exchange, huh? You got a deal."

"Excellent." Roy clicked open his own watch, "If you leave now you should make the 11.15. I expect you back on Monday with a proper report this time."

"Whatever," was Edward's only reply as he left. Monday still gave him most of three days away from East City. "Let's go, Al."

His brother hung back, "You go on ahead. I'll catch up."

As soon as Edward was out of earshot, he turned to Roy, who was still standing by the door.

"Thank you."

"I don't know what that's for," Roy replied, but there was a trace of a smile under his normally stoic expression, "You should hurry, unless you want to miss your train."

"Mmm, right. Could you please let Mr Hughes know we'll be there? We won't have time to call on the way."

The younger Elric ran off after his brother, and Roy went back into the office. From Riza Hawkeye's pained expression as she held the phone to her ear, Maes Hughes had decided to start talking about his family again.

He held out his hand and, with a thankful smile, Hawkeye handed him the receiver.

"Hughes, it's me again," he said, cutting his friend off mid flow.

"Ah good. So – can I expect the brothers?"

"They'll be in Central late afternoon. Should be catching the 11.15."

"Excellent. I'll meet them at the station. You sure you can't come too, Roy?"

"I doubt they'd want to be at the same party as me. Give Gracia my apologies."

"Will do."

"And Hughes?"

"Yup?"

"Don't tell them this was my idea."

"Hah. Secret's safe with me, Roy."

After Hughes had hung up, Roy picked up Edward's badly written report, and tore off the last page, throwing the rest of it into the bin. It contained an alarming number of obscenities and ended with the words 'do your own damn job' but that hadn't been what concerned him. That had been the last page, one he knew Edward hadn't meant to staple to his report.

He put on one ignition glove, and created a spark that was just enough to set the creased page alight. He watched as the paper curled and blackened, and tried not to read it again.

 _Dear mum,_

It began

 _I'm so sorry_ …

But it didn't take long for those words, and the rest, to burn until there was nothing left but ash.


End file.
